


15 days

by Blank_Is_typing



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Depression, M/M, Past Suicide Attempt, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-22 23:55:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20330626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blank_Is_typing/pseuds/Blank_Is_typing
Summary: Felix's psychiatrist decides he should write down his thoughts daily. He thinks it stupid but tries it anyway.





	15 days

** D****ay** **1: March 11th, 2019**

Hi, I don't know how to start this, but I've been ordered to write in this "Journal" for at least 10 days straight, better than crying in my room for an hour everyday I guess. It's like 2 am so I'll pick this up tomorrow. 

**Day 2: March 12th, 2019**

I've been thinking a lot almost too much, I just want it all to stop and I don't know what to do. Sorry, It's just been a _long_ and stressful day. I don't think that doing any to this will stop me from grabbing the razor blade that's caught my eye for the last week, but it's a nice distraction. I got a job. (Yay, I guess.) Working with animals is fun but I can tell they know I'm not okay.

**Day 3: March 13th, 2019**

A little girl asked me why I had so many "scratches" on my arm. He mother glanced at me out of the corner of my eye and took her away. Then my boss started asking about it and thought I had depression. I hate how people romanticize cutting or associate it with one specific problem. I don't do it because I need to feel something, I do it to distract myself from the overwhelming thoughts in my head. Today was just not a good day. I need to hide that goddamn razor blade!

**Day 4: March 14th, 2019**

I've decided that I like Thursdays. Why? Because that's when Changbin volunteers. Ugh, that sentence sounds like I'm a fucking middle schooler but I'm not changing it. He's the only one that doesn't treat me like I'm nothing but my scars. At first, he looks intimidating but once you see him with kittens it's like he becomes a whole new person.

**Day 5: March 15th, 2019**

I cut again today. Things were going so well, but that's always the problem, isn't it? When I got home last night my brain kicked into overdrive. Suddenly I thought about everything, at it's overwhelming. I hate that every little thought I have can cause me to fall into this headspace where I did everything wrong. Everything was just too much, the voice in my had was going on about 5 different things at once and I couldn't take it. I tried not to do it, I really did. Medication, hot showers, blasting music in my ears, even pulling my hair and flat out screaming, but nothing was working, those damn thoughts wouldn't stop. I just remember the sound of my feet on the bathroom tiles and the loud bang of me pulling the entire top drawer out. 

It hurts, it always hurts, but that's the point because I just need to focus on one thing. The stinging of new skin being exposed to the air or the bits of blood that drip out of the lines are the only things that will calm me down anymore. Whenever I started feeling overwhelmed I would always put pressure on my arm, letting the singing sensation bring back my focus, but all of my cuts were healed, so it wasn't going to work.

It hasn't been this bad in a while, but I can't afford another therapy session for a month. Chan's supposed to come over tomorrow so I just have to not kill myself till then.

**Day 6: March 16th, 2019 **

Should I tell Chan about what happened? I mean, he has his anxiety and depression to deal with. Sometimes I feel like I'm burdening him. I don't know why he insists on hanging out with me on Saturdays, it's not like I'm interesting. I'm a minor inconvenience at best and sometimes it'd be better if-

_This is Chan, and if you finish that sentence I'm not bringing you food next week. Felix, you're not a burden. I don't know how many times I have to tell you how much you saved me. I'm sorry for stealing this from you, but I saw you staring at it about to cry. I'm going to let you talk about what you did yesterday, and trust me, writing in this helps so much. _

_P.S. Who is Changbin ;)_

**Day 7: March 17th, 2019**

Sometimes I think I need to be admitted into a mental hospital. Not one of the nice ones that care about their patients. The ones that just shove people into straight jackets and hide them from society. Why even try making this better? My medication is commonly used to treat schizophrenia anyway. I know I should try thinking positively, and I am, it's just at a 9 to 1ratio. I don't think I can write today, my brain feels like sludge, I just want to go to sleep and hopefully never wake up.

**Day 8: March 18th, 2019**

What the fuck is wrong with me!? One day my mind is working on overdrive, the next I can barely scrape together enough energy to have a conversation. I feel like how one of those videos where a person is just standing still as the world speeds past them looks. Just blank, going through the motions, and digging into your arm to keep from completely zoning out. I'm completely and utterly exhausted. It's been a constant cycle of on and off. Are a few good days worth it?" 

**Day 9: March 19th, 2019**

So apparently Changbin is volunteering Tuesday's and Thursday's now, and I don't know how to feel about that. I think he can tell how tired I am because he offered to do my work so I could get an extra hour of lunch. Do I seem that incapable? I know he doesn't mean it that way, and I think it's nice for someone who hasn't seen me at my worse to care about me. Somehow we went to see a movie after work, only because he looked so excited about it and it made me smile a little to see him so passionate about something. But it was only a split second of joy.

**Day 10: March 20th, 2019**

I'm tired. I just want to stop all of this. I didn't get out of bed till 3 pm and I still haven't eaten anything. What's the point of all of this? I'm still going to have these highs and lows, it's exhausting. I've been told things are getting better, but why did my dosage get raised? Why are the good days becoming so rare?

Maybe it's because it's almost been a year since I attempted. I still remember my neighbor finding me slumped over in the corner of y bedroom, how I yelled at them not to call the ambulance and let me die. As much as it haunts me, I don't regret it, because in those moments when I was slowly losing consciousness I felt the best I had in months. I hoped that I wouldn't wake up. But I guess Chan wouldn't have come into my life or Changbin, but honestly, I'm not worth being cared about anyway. Oh, wait! I just remembered it's been 10 days, I don't have to write in this thing anymore. 

**Day 11: March 21st, 2019**

_Hey Felix, It's Changbin. You left your Journal in the breakroom, figured I'd snatch it before someone else. I know this is probably an invasion of privacy, but I've been worried about you. I read what you wrote an I don't consider you a burden, I'm sure Chan doesn't either. You are so much more than these emotions you're feeling. I know it hurts, I know you feel hopeless like there is no chance things will get better, but if I've been reading this right, you're getting better, even if you stumble sometimes. Hopefully, I'll be able to give this to you tomorrow._

**Day 12: March 22nd, 2019**

........ I-I don't know how to process this. That's why he was so shy when he walked in. I kind of feel bad for almost pushing him to the ground. He was just trying to return it. I still feel like I'm worthless but now all I'm thinking about is what will happen to Chan or Changbin if I'm gone. It'd probably scar them for a little. But all of that care and attention could be used on something other than a lost cause.

**Day 13: March 23rd, 2019**

So... I got Changbin's number, he may have asked me out too and I'm kind of freaking out a bit, but I can scream to Chan in a few minutes. The thing is, When Changbin asked me out, he said it didn't have to be romantic unless I wanted it to be. If I'm honest I just want someone to hold me while I eat outrageous amounts of food and get lost within the emotions of a movie. Is that selfish? Some part of me also enjoys being needed, the confirmation that I'm useful in someone else's life means a lot.

**Day 14: March 24th, 2019**

I've decided that I like this Journaling thing. It stops me from rambling about it or keeping it all bottled up. Looking back helps me realize that I am getting better, even if at the moment it looks worse.

Also, my date with Changbin went well. I decided I did want it to be romantic. Having something and someone you look forward to seeing every day is something I want from life. It might not be a normal relationship but, is there such a thing as that? This isn't an impulsive decision either, nothing ever is with me. I practically talked Chan's ear off about it yesterday. Tomorrow might be a bad day for me, but I don't think it'll be as bad as about a week ago.

**Day 15: March 25th, 2019**

If I could sigh on paper I would.

It's been exactly one year since I tried to commit suicide. God, I still remember the sights, the sounds, the smells. Looks of pity or sorrow, some of just flat out disappointment. The neighbor who found me has been long gone, he moved out 2 months after I got out of the hospital. I didn't have a plan for how I was going to die. I just thought that if I took a few more pills and cut just a little deeper I could finally mute that stupid voice in my head. I ended up needing stitches, turns out I was only 3 centimeters from cutting a large vein in my arm. I remember running into Chan at the hospital, he had a familiar gauze wrapped around his left leg, similar to mine.

One look at each other and we knew that we were both broken. He held out his hand and introduced himself. I took it and did the same, the rest is history. However, Chan had a faster recovery, which now I know is fine, but at the time, it sucked knowing that he had to come back to this place that haunted both of us. They tried therapy, but that didn't help. I can't trust someone that easily and I had a panic attack walking into the office. I didn't want to have to face this person and have them judge me for trying to die because of a few insecurities. 15 different meds were tested on me and by the end of it, I felt like a lab rat. 

A month later I was finally let go, but I needed to go to therapy once a week. It was some weird kind that made it feel like you were walking into a confession booth of a catholic church. It worked for me, and when I felt like I could trust Her, my therapist went back to a normal setting. The pills were huge and I had to swallow them in halves. 

At that point in my life, it felt like I would never be the person I was before the things in my head made it difficult for me to function. I didn't realize that everything that people did for me was beyond what they needed to do. I was surrounded by people who cared about me, but I was too blinded by my sadness and anxieties to notice. I wish I had started writing my thoughts down earlier, because something that I can look back on, something that my mind can't morph based on emotions would've helped me see just how far I've come. 

I've only relapsed 10 times this year, I only stopped taking medication for a week, and now I have two people that I can open myself up to and help me in was medicine can't. I know my mind might try to break me again, and all these good things might try to be twisted by the voice in my head. This time, I have proof that I'm lying to myself. One thing the voice hates is a good counter-argument, something that used to be so hard to find. 

What I'm trying to say is, even if it's for a day, no part of me wants to die. I have a long way to go, but I need to look back at how far I've come sometimes.


End file.
